“Forty-five minutes. Your aisle manager will set the time for your lunch hours. There is an employees’ restaurant in the store where you can buy a substantial lunch for ten cents.”
“I should like to ask, sir, what wages we are to receive?” was Harry’s pertinent question.
“Three dollars a week. We start all our boys at that salary. If they make good, they are sure of a fifty cent increase within six months after they start to work.”
Harry vowed mentally that he would “make good,” if such a thing were possible. He made no response to Mr. Marsh’s statement, as it seemed to call for none.
“I will send a messenger with you to your departments. Here, Alec.” Mr. Marsh addressed a tall, thin lad seated at a little desk near the end of the room. “Take this boy to Department 40. Take him straight to Mr. Duffield. Then show this boy,” indicating Harry, “to Mr. Barton at exchange desk Number 10. Tell him I am sending him a boy. He asked Mr. Keene for one yesterday morning.” With a friendly smile at Harry and Teddy the pleasant young man handed the boys their cards. “Here are your honor rolls. Keep them clean,” he admonished. “All right, Alec.” He nodded to the messenger.
The tall, thin boy started off at a quickstep, followed by the two latest recruits to the great store of Martin Brothers.
“Say, he’s some fellow, ain’t he?” remarked Teddy, as he hustled to keep up with their guide’s lengthy stride.
“Who, Mr. Marsh? You just better believe he is,” was the emphatic tribute.